The Art of Making Up
by Lunacy1111
Summary: Carla has told Peter to move out, after discovering he set up a group chat to monitor her. But what if he came back? Can they finally be happy together or is it really the end? Yes, there is smut. And yes there is a shock at the end. Also, thanks to Char who keeps encouraging me to write when I think I can't anymore. Let me know what you think :)


I want you to move out. The words were out before she could stop them. Propelled by anger. Insecurity. And way too stubborn to take them back. It was already too quiet as she stayed sat in the café waiting for him to leave. Glued to the chair, not chancing the impulse to fling herself into the strong arms buried under that leather jacket.

He was staring at her now with those warm chocolate eyes, heartbroken and remorseful. He didn't want to leave her. He was held in the doorway by that same magnetic force that always drew an invisible line from one to the other.

She couldn't take it any longer. The intensity between them was overwhelming, even across the room. And she certainly didn't want to lose him. Not really. Not now. A stab of fear shot through her at the thought.

"Hey" Carla called out, "I don't want to split up. I just need some space" Making sure he wouldn't really leave her.

Peter swallowed hard. He needed to be a better man than he had ever been. He didn't want this infernal space. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and never let go again. He wanted to spend hours telling her all the reasons he loves her so much. How he's a stupid man, but he wants to be better for her. But he just nods. He will give her anything she needs.

And then Carla watches the man who stood by her side, and held her hand through to the other side. She watches him walk away. And she lets the door slam as she stomps up the stairs.

This is where Roy found her not much later with a basket of perfectly well folded laundry dumped on the floor. He paused for a moment, calculating the dangers of interjecting.

"Peter already folded them earlier" he dared to inform her.

"He did it wrong" Carla seethed, piling one more awkardly shaped lump into the basket.

Roy opened his mouth to argue the lumpy point and then quickly closed it when his eyes darted behind her. And quickly retreated to his room. Very very quickly.

Carla whirled around as a much less lumpy article of clothing was dropped into the basket.

"Who said you could come back" she glared at him, all the while her heart skipping several beats.

Peter just kept folding and dropping. Carla snatched up the basket as soon as the last item was redeposited, her green eyes flashing in annoyance as she scanned the room for a spot she could slam the basket down with maximum impact. Grunting, she carried the basket across the room just to bang it down on the kitchen table.

The fact that Peter was grinning behind her at her temper only made it surge even higher. She was angry. Really angry. At Peter for being an idiot. For thinking she was hopeless. And she was angry at herself. For not even being herself anymore. For the day Peter would surely give up on her.

His grin at the tempestuous beauty swinging her hair at him quickly disappeared, as Carla reached for the cups on the table, preparing for her next noisy task.

"No, no" Peter cautioned, reaching his arms around her waist. "You promised no more dish washing after the last – incident"

Carla would have carried on arguing how the sink was old and defective, but she was too busy battling her deepest urges to lean back in his arms. Had it really only been since this morning that he had wrapped them so tenderly around her and rested his cheek against her hair. It felt like days already.

She sucked in a deep breath. And another. Then Carla placed her hands on his. She quickly sunk her teeth into her lip, to hold back the moan, as the touch of her skin on his set off a scattering of heat down her spine. Quickly brushing his hands away, Carla abandoned the cups on the table, and turned to face him.

"Are we scrubbing toilets next" Peter quipped at her. Encouraged that she hadn't even tried to throw him out yet. Her attempt at pretending she didn't want him there was surprisingly feeble.

"What do you think" Carla snapped back. "I told you I wanted space"

"But you don't" Peter countered, carefully stepping right into that space, ensuring his instincts were right, and she didn't show signs of distress. But Carla stepped even closer, tilting her chin defiantly.

"What makes you think you know what I want" she demanded sharply. His gaze had caught hers and now she couldn't look away. Mesmerized by the pull that tugged her only inches away, her eyes bore into his. Flickers of desire barely concealed by the challenge in her eyes.

"I know you better than anyone" Peter shot back. Carla didn't deny it.

But it was enough to break the spell and the heated eye contact.

"You shouted at me" she responded with surprise.

She couldn't remember the last time Peter had been anything but gentle and reassuring and calm.

"Yeah" he shrugged. "Well I'm me" jerking his thumb toward his chest, "And you're you" breaking the barrier between them to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. His hand slow to retreat, as his fingers softly caressed her tresses.

"We shout. We fight. And we make up. And I'm going to keep making up with you for the next thirty years" he declared, before quipping "Forty. Us Barlows are long lived"

Carla's face held a whisper of a smile at the making up part. But before she could comment, Peter dropped his head into his hands running his hands over his scalp.

"I do realize that asking people to watch you was pretty much the stupidest and worst thing I could do, after all you went through thinking you were being spied on" he admitted sincerely. "I never meant to hurt you"

Carla was touched that Peter tried to put himself in her place, and got there on his own. But she was still hurt.

"You don't trust me" she responded sadly.

Peter shook his head, "I do" stuffing his hands into his jeans, his eyes downcast as he admitted "I don't trust me"

"What are you on about" Carla inquired, a quizzical expression playing over her face.

"You were the one person on my side. You never gave up on me. You saved me, Peter"

But Peter shook his head. "I should have got you help. Me dad tried to tell me. I couldn't find you. I thought I was enough to look after you. It's my fault you nearly died. I let you down"

Carla was taken aback at the anguish in his dark eyes. "You should trust you" she urged him. "I trust you" she emphasized, "When I couldn't trust anything, I trusted you"

The corner of her lips tugged upward as Carla moved toward Peter, grasping the unzipped edges of his leather jacket, and pulled him closer. Gazing up at him, sparkling green eyes, under dark lashes, she tempted him "Tell me more about this making up"

* * *

Carla could not say how they got to the bed. Clothes were ripped and strewn and tossed. Somehow that laundry basket wound up overturned once again on the floor.

And now she was looking up into the warm brown eyes that made her weak. Her soft heated skin arched against him as he hovered over her. Every secret wish and dream she had held for the last five years was alive in that moment.

Peter buried his fingers into her dark hair as his hands gently framed her face. Gazing down at her, he murmured, "God you're beautiful. I can't believe you're mine"

Happiness radiated off her face, as Carla pulled his weight down on her, draping her legs around his hips. Her breath hitched as his lips finally descended on hers.

She had thought about this moment. When they would be together again. More times than she would ever admit to anyone. She always knew it would be when; never if. She had wondered if she would feel nervous or unsure. If it would feel different.

But nothing had ever felt as right. Carla parted her lips to his tongue, giving him access to slide his tongue along hers; every stroke set off another spark of heat through her limbs. When his hard cock teased her slit, the whimper against his lips was all the encouragement Peter needed.

Shifting his hips forward in a long swift thrust, Peter sank into her. Carla's walls caved around him, massaging his cock as he moved. Her hips rose to meet his as he stroked back into her hot box. Kissing him deeply, tangling her tongue possessively around his, she moaned as Peter's hands moved over her bare skin.

Carla ran her hands over Peter's head, gripping his hair tighter, as his thrusts quickened, and became as deep as possible. He couldn't get enough of her. And her insides ached impossibly for him to fill.

The way she panted his name sent a shudder through him. Peter felt like he was going to explode. The swirl of love and need in her eyes shining back at him captivated him.

Her hips jerked as Carla squeezed around him needfully, and Peter swelled inside her. A shot of heat engulfed her, scattering down her spine as Carla bit down on her lip. It did little to hold back the moan, as she felt the intense pull in her abdomen; tensing and coiling, rolling into her limbs.

In just enough time, Peter remembered they were not the only two people in the world. Not the only two in this flat. As he crashed his mouth down on hers, his cock driving headlong into her, Carla quivered uncontrollably around him.

Carla's cries were barely contained against his lips, ravaged by waves of pleasure, clenching him as Peter plunged into her. Bathing his throbbing cock in her juices, they clung to each other when he burst, pumping thick steams of cum into her depths.

As he held her gently against him and stroked her hair softly, Peter whispered "Are you okay" As if quiet mattered now.

Carla grinned brightly at him as her eyes sparkled in answer. And then giggled as her tummy rumbled against him in its own response.

"Have you not been…" Peter started before clamping his mouth shut. "I'll make you a bite to eat" he changed course as he started to untangle his limbs from hers.

"Shhh" Carla admonished him, "you'll wake up Roy anyway. Get back here"

"I'll grab you something from The Bistro" Peter acquiesced, "any requests?"

Carla shook her head. "Just hurry back"

"Oh, I will" Peter promised as he let his eyes travel hungrily over her naked form.

Carla's hand reached out from the covers to grasp at her discarded clothing, but Peter shook his head.

"'No you don't. You stay in there" he gestured at the bed. "I'm not done with you yet"

Carla's face lit into a smile as she snuggled obediently back into the bed.

As he popped through the door way, Peter suddenly turned back.

"Hey" he called out softly, "I love you"

"I love you" Carla called back but he had already disappeared from view.

* * *

"Pe'er" Carla mumbled softly. As her eyes fluttered open, she realized she must have fallen asleep waiting for Peter. He was meant to be quick, she grumbled to herself. And then forced her eyes fully open as she sensed someone in the room. Finally he was back.

But it wasn't Peter.

"What are you doing here" Carla yawned "Did you see Peter. He was popping over to the Bistro"

When she didn't answer, Carla struggled to sit up, pulling the covers close to her.

Michelle nodded. "He was there" was all she could get out.

Carla scrunched her nose in confusion. What was going on.

"I'm so sorry" Michelle continued. But Carla didn't understand. She would never understand.

"It – it happened so fast. There was a gun. He – Peter saved me" the words tumbled out so fast. She didn't know if Carla could understand them. But when she saw her green eyes widen, Michelle knew.

She was shaking her head. She was quiet. "Where is he" were the first words her best friend spoke.

As Carla started to move from the bed, Michelle rushed forward. "No. You can't. It's – too late. I'm so sorry"

"WHERE IS HE. I NEED TO SEE HIM" Carla was screeching. But she couldn't even hear her voice. Everything was silent and slow and caving in on her.

As Michelle moved closer, she shook her head fiercely. "No. He said forty years. NO. NO"

Carla could swear she felt her heart fall away, as her body crumbled into nothing. Shouldn't it hurt more, as it was ripped away, leaving a gaping hole in her chest. But it wasn't there. It was with Peter. It was always with Peter.

Carla was screaming.

And Michelle couldn't get her to stop.

Carla couldn't stop screaming.

* * *

Is it really the end? Let me know what you think :)


End file.
